


i don't know where this heart of mine will lead me

by soldierwitch



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 11:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12839907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierwitch/pseuds/soldierwitch
Summary: Jughead knows he softens around Toni in ways he doesn’t know how to explain to himself or anyone else, but he doesn’t know how to stop and doesn’t think he wants to.





	i don't know where this heart of mine will lead me

**Author's Note:**

> written for anonymous on the [Riverdale Comment Ficathon](https://ladygawain.livejournal.com/85008.html). **prompt** : jughead/toni, adventures of the occasional roomates. title from [Clarity](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93zWVBJB_aI) by Andy Kong
> 
> This was fun to write. I love ficathons because you can just dive into the deep of the prompt and see what it turns into once you reach the other side of your writing. I truly suggest participating if you want to try your hand at writing your favorite characters and/or ships or if you're trying to shake off any doubts about your writing. All fun, no pressure.

There’s a gold key that hangs from Toni’s neck on a matching gold chain. The first time Jughead sees it he smiles small and happy. Toni catches him. She’s mid-laugh, the sound as warm as the brown of her skin. When she settles, a matching smile graces her lips. A secret cements in place between them.

No one knows that there are nights that Toni puts that key to use, unlocks his door and steps over the threshold. Home. She always raps on his door frame when she decides she’s going to cash in on the promise of “my trailer is your trailer.”

He’s usually up, lamp light illuminating her as she peers in. Sometimes she comes in and claims a spot at the bottom of the bed, pulling her shitty laptop out of her bag to upload her pictures from the day.

They sit in silence, glancing over at each other occasionally, making silly faces, sticking out their tongues, rolling their eyes. Jughead knows he softens around Toni in ways he doesn’t know how to explain to himself or anyone else, but he doesn’t know how to stop and doesn’t think he wants to.

When Betty asks about her, he mentions the dinner he had with the Serpents. How Toni became a drill sergeant, ordering boys nearly twice her size around, taking over the kitchen with Sweet Pea by her side. He tries not to say _our_ when he should be saying _my_ ; he swallows words on Toni feeding him bits of the food to taste test and how he’s starting to feel less and less alone at the trailer.

Betty wouldn’t understand. Her world has always orbited around the Northside. She’s always belonged, caught in the twinkling light of middle class security. But he’s always been the kid a little too rough for the neighborhood with its white picket fences and family friendly activities. His friendship with Toni doesn’t make him feel like he’s the odd man out, the charity case, the one to be pitied. And for once, he’d like to keep something for himself. Something that Betty and Archie aren’t in on, too. Something of his own. So, Betty doesn’t know about the key or how it catches the light as it swings back and forth across Toni’s stomach, its shadow cast against her skin.

She doesn’t know about the late night rides on the back of Toni’s motorcycle, the cool air hitting his face, chasing away thoughts as dark as the night around them. Their destination is always the Ridge. 

Toni says the stars are therapeutic, shit advice givers but wonderful listeners. She teaches him that yelling obscenities from the ledge can be cathartic. They scream together. Her uncle. His father. Their mothers. Life with its fucked up way of screwing them over. Their voices tangle like the fingers of their hands. She holds him while he cries; he wipes the tears from her eyes. It’s a slow, winding road home, and they are bone tired when they get in but they don’t sleep those nights. He makes pancakes and they eat, trading happy stories about the people in their lives, the ones they’ve loved and kept as well as those they’ve lost.

Sometimes, Jughead wonders how no one has figured it out yet. Their flannels mix to the point where he forgets which are his and which are hers. One time, Toni’s in such a rush that she grabs his jacket on her way out instead of her own. They trade when he meets her in front of her locker. He tugs on her hair bow in amusement. She glares with an accompanied, “Not a word, Jones,” and he tries not to let a smile twitch to life on his lips. For the whole day, no one but him knows that his jacket smells like the ocean breeze shampoo Toni likes to use. Another thing he gets to keep for his own.

Jughead gets so used to Toni’s presence at the trailer that the news of his father’s upcoming release is met with a bittersweet joy. He’s glad for his freedom but he’s not sure where that leaves Toni.

When he suggests talking to his dad, she shakes her head, puts him off the idea. “Mollie Pop said she’d put me up for a week,” Toni says as if it’s a solution.

He finds himself wanting to tug at his hair, to throw something. “It’s not right,” he says.

“No,” Toni says with a shrug. “But it’s life.”

Though frustrated, Jughead does what Toni asks of him. He doesn’t tell his dad about her homelessness. Instead, he texts her when he’s sure that he’s gone to sleep, waits for the tell-tale sign of her key turning the lock, and waves her over to the pull out couch that has now becomes his.

“Jug…”

“It’s temporary,” he says, pulling a manila folder from his bag beside the bed. “Toni, have you ever thought about filing to become an emancipated minor?”

“My uncle–”

“Is shit to you.”

Toni sits on the bed, the frame creaks a little with her added weight. “Him being an asshole isn’t enough for a court to grant this to me, Jug.”

“I know but I was talking to Mrs. Andrews and–”

“You talked about this with Archie’s mom,” she hisses, hurt and anger mixing on her face. “Jughead, what the fuck?”

“Hear me out,” he says, grabbing onto her hand, part of him trying to keep her from leaving, the other part needing to assure her that he hasn’t broken their confidence. “I told Archie that I wanted to talk to his mom about my dad’s case. He gave me her number. I slipped in a few innocuous questions about emancipation. She thought I was asking for myself. No one knows about what’s going on with your uncle besides who you’ve let know. That hasn’t changed. You should know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Sorry,” she whispers after a moment. “Sorry, I…it’s reflex.”

“I get it. You’re always waiting for the shoe to drop.”

Toni nods. “Nothing good ever lasts,” she says, turning her back. She unzips her boots, the sound filling the silence in the room.

The bed creaks again as Toni moves closer taking the folder without looking at him. The curtain of her hair falls in her face, hiding her from him. “Walk me through this,” she says not looking up from the documents she’s begun to spread out between them.

Their night is spent talking through the pros and cons of filing a petition. They cover every sticking point, doubling back and going over any bumps they hit on whether she meets the requirements to file. At some point, they fall asleep. Jughead doesn’t know when. The last thing he remembers is Toni, highlighter in hand, going over state guidelines for the petition for the third time. He wakes to the feel of his father’s boot knocking against his barefoot, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Jug,” he begins, voice still gravely from sleep. “As nice as it is to see you’ve made some new friends since I’ve been gone, you mind telling me why Topaz is in your bed?”

Jughead jerks to the side in surprise, pulling the blankets with him as he nearly topples off the mattress.

Toni grumbles, face pressing into the pillow she’s curled around. She kicks out her foot hitting Jughead in the thigh as she reaches down to pull the blankets back to herself. “Forsythe,” she says in a voice a little slurred from sleep and a lot disgruntled. “Sharing is caring.”

Jughead pauses and then looks over at his dad who has his eyebrow raised as he sips his coffee. “Uh,” he says but his mind doesn’t catch on to anything else to say, so he doesn’t. Turning to Toni, he nudges at her shoulder but all she does is grab his hand.

“Go back to sleep,” Toni says. “FP’s probs not up for another ten minutes which means I have five minutes, and I’m going to have all those minutes, Jones, so help me.”

“You overslept, Topaz.”

Jughead can feel the moment Toni realizes that’s his dad’s voice. She freezes, her hand lets go of his. But he can also feel the mask slip firmly into place on her.

Toni rolls over and pushes herself up. “Well, looks like I did,” she says. “Don’t worry, FP, I was a gentleman. Your son’s virtue is safe.”

“Is that so,” FP asks, amused.

“The so-est,” Toni says with a smirk before slipping out from beneath what little blankets were still on her. She puts her boots on. “I gotta jet though.”

“Probably for the best.”

“Toni.”

She turns to Jughead as she’s pulling her hair into a ponytail.

He sees the apology in her eyes, but he shakes his head in response. “The library?”

“Sure, Jug,” she says, reaching for the hoodie she stole from Fangs the last time they were at Fogarty’s Garage. Its frayed sleeves slip over her hands. She pulls her key out from under the fabric, it swings as she bends to pick up her bag.

Toni leaves with a “Catch you later, FP,” over her shoulder and the door slamming closed.

Silence fills the room in her absence.

Jughead gets out of bed and grabs his phone. He tries to shuffle past but his dad doesn’t let him.

“Still didn’t answer my question, son.”

With a shrug, Jughead says, “She was wired didn’t want to go home like that. I told her she could stay here for a bit. Clearly we fell asleep.”

“Under the covers?”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Dad, fully clothed.”

FP nods and takes a long sip of his coffee before sidestepping to let Jughead pass. “Betty know Toni crashes here,” he asks before Jughead can make it all the way to the bathroom.

“First off, Toni doesn’t crash here,” Jughead says, turning around. She stays here, he thinks. “Second, Serpents are supposed to have each others’ back, right? Toni needed a spot to wind down, so she called me. I answered. We fell asleep. That’s it.”

FP holds his hands out in front of him, careful not to splash his coffee on his hand. “Okay, Jug, geez. No need to be touchy.” He heads off the kitchen. “But I’d handle my shit if I were you.”

“There’s nothing to handle,” Jughead mutters.

“Yeah, I’d say otherwise, kid.”

Jughead slams the door closed on his dad’s laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated. If you'd like to drop me a line on tumblr, I'm [asoldierwitch](https://asoldierwitch.tumblr.com/).


End file.
